


Don't call me (I'll call you)

by Lookingkindofdumb



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Natasha will win even if she is blind drunk and Tony will clap with popcorn, Steve sometimes despairs of his team, The one where Natasha and Tony are totally bros, They were raised in barns the lot of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6355387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookingkindofdumb/pseuds/Lookingkindofdumb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where several people end up on Natasha's shit list. Tony and Natasha bring popcorn to a fight and there is far more alcohol than is healthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't call me (I'll call you)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know...just two snippets of Natasha and Tony being bros.
> 
> Warning: Brief bit where someone is drugged against their will.

Natasha smiled just a little too sloppily and leaned forward exposing more of her cleavage.

Easy tricks, ones she would disdain to use if she wasn’t so practical.

They worked. And that was the only thing that mattered. 

A flicker of the eyes at the low cut of her dress. Predictable.

However this was no youth unable to wrench his gaze away from revealed flesh. Tiberius Stone was a womanizing shark in a sea of minnows. He would not be so easily distracted as to spill secrets. Not yet anyway.

(Also he was good looking enough to not be lacking for company and so not desperate in the least for a pretty woman’s smile.)

He draped an arm around her waist. His hand remained at the curve of her hip, he wasn’t nearly so crass as to let it linger higher or lower. 

Yes, Tiberius Stone was nearly as well trained in the art of seduction as she was. Smooth.

She couldn’t wait to return to the Tower filled with male slobs. She would trade their blunt brashness for this slick talker any day.

She gave a throaty laugh, husky in all the right ways, as he made a quip that in other circumstances might actually have amused her. But she was on a mission and the weight of Natasha’s full concentration was on extracting certain information.

Information from Tiberius Stone.

“Another refill?” Stone asked conscientiously. Falsely, of course. It was all a game, sex as the winning prize.

“I’m good for now.” She answered; her voice lowered just a touch as she leaned, ever so slightly, against the solid weight of his shoulder, holding up her half filled champagne flute in evidence.

“Suit yourself.” Stone said with all the disdain of a whiskey drinker at the bubbly. Champagne that probably cost more than most hotel rooms for the night.

Natasha could sympathise, she was the same with coffee when she deigned to drink it.

In an odd way there was something appealing about Tiberius Stone, the charm in his handsome face, in his strong build, in his cold heartedness disguised as warmth. The way he was unrepentantly a piranha in society, in business. 

He had sharp teeth.

She had deadly poison. 

She took a sip from her glass letting her lightly painted lips caress the glass with calculated precision. She made sure he was watching. Hook.

Stone took a sip of his own amber drink. The bait was taken.

Someone caught Stone’s attention and his gaze moved from her face to behind her.

She turned with a smile, taking the chance to brush the weight of one of her left breast against Stone’s arm.

Stone’s grip tightened around her just a bit. Even he wasn’t immune to some tricks.

Upon seeing who had approached it took Natasha nearly all her training not to curse at the man before decking him.

It was just like him to jeopardise a mission for his own amusement.

“Anthony! Why, it’s been years.” 

“Has it? Not long enough then, Ty.” Tony responded with a quick grin. He didn’t spare her a glance. Perhaps for once he wasn’t there to bug her but to actually talk with an old acquaintance.

They had gone to MIT together after all and Tiberius ran around in the same circles as Stark.

That didn’t really seem likely however, not counting the true dislike in Tony’s eyes. There was something cold at the depths of those brown irises, it reminded her that for all of Tony’s arrogance and ability to poke irritation until it rose up and engulfed him he was truly someone you didn’t want to make an enemy of.

“Come now, Anthony, we’re all friends here, no need for hostility.” It seemed Natasha wasn’t the only one who had noticed the distinct coolness of Tony’s greeting.

“Hmmm.” Tony hummed in not quite agreement, eyes flickering to her as though he hadn’t noticed her before. A complete lie, Tony Stark had remarkable situational awareness when he was on the alert. And at these society functions he was always wary.

“We met before, Mr Stark, Natalie. From legal.” Natasha murmured, lowering her eyes briefly.

“Ah, of course. And for you, it’s Tony.” Tony grinned, shooting her a saucy wink as he made it clear from the direction of his gaze that he remembered her for her body rather than her name.

Not for the first time Natasha revised her mental file on Tony Stark. He was a dammed good actor. Recognition was a rather hard emotion to hide or cover and Tony made it look easier than breathing.

Once again Stone’s grip around her waist tightened slightly, staking a claim silently and with a subtle finesse most men couldn’t pull off even if they tried.

“Okay Mr St-Tony.” Natasha said, playing her part and stumbling over the name.

“See, there, we’re all friends now.” Stone grinned, teeth gleaming. That smile was far too sharp.

“Mind if I steal Natalie for a second, Ty? I’ll take her for a quick spin on the dance floor before returning her safe and sound.” Tony grinned, detaching Stone’s arm from her waist in a smooth move and then they were spinning across the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” Natasha hissed, keeping up her pleasant smile but tightening her grip in warning. Tony masked a wince at the grip squeezing his hand.

“Stone knows you’re a plant.” Natasha stiffened. That meant there was a leak, this mission had been secret, all missions for SHIELD were, but the missions she was sent on were especially so. “JARVIS caught a message, I thought I’d tell you now instead of you getting kidnapped and then heroically saving yourself like everyone knows you could-”

A hand grabbed Tony’s shoulder, halting their dance and Natasha realised they’d backed into a corner. Stupid, she shouldn’t have been so distracted by the new information.

Tiberius’ face loomed over Tony’s shoulder a confident and sharky smile across his lips.

“Well, now that we’re all on the same page...” Stone drawled. Tony hissed out a breath. Natasha fancied she could almost hear his bones creak under the harsh grip Stone had on his shoulder.

“Let me tell you something, a fun fact. Dotted about this room are some charges, small ones – not enough to level the building – but certainly enough to kill quite a few people in this room.” Tony’s face paled and set. “Now, I take it I don’t need to voice what will happen should either of you two not decide to accompany me to my car? We don’t want any of my...associates getting a little trigger happy, do we?”

Natasha shook her head tightly. A pained gasp left Tony’s mouth. Evidently Stone’s grip had tightened once again. He nodded too and Stone let go before slinging one arm across Tony’s shoulders and another over hers and leading them out.

“The drunk act, Tony, don’t think I’ve forgotten how delightful you can be.” There was a threat in Stone’s voice, a dark amusement underlining it. Tony lost what little colour had remained in his face but he obligingly leaned into Stone just a bit more and began gesturing too wide, too expressive.

It was a classy act. If Natasha didn’t know he was faking it then she would have been taken in by it, unless she took a real close look.

“And you, my dear. Just a tad giggly if you will.”

Natasha’s turn to act.

Stone gave every indication that he was escorting two drunken people, old enough to know better, out and taking them safely home for something a little scandalous. It was Tony Stark; he was always worth the papers.

(She made sure to duck her face strategically, to make sure the cameras couldn’t get a good angle. Tony helped by unselfconsciously hogging the press’ attention.)

There weren’t any SHIELD agents waiting outside. When Natasha did this sort of operation she went alone. One, it was easier, two, most SHIELD agents had nothing on her and three, it made it far less likely for the mark to realise it was an op.

She cursed that decision now. Although, considering there was a leak any other agents might not have made any difference.

“Get in the car, don’t struggle.” Stone ordered.

The hairs on the back of Natasha’s neck prickled. She knew there was someone behind her, three people – men judging by the footfalls – but she got into the car without protest.

“You know, you’re usually a bit more classy than this. Don’t we at least get dinner first?” Tony asked, eyebrow raised. Natasha mentally cursed him three ways for a fool.

Stone reached out and gripped Tony’s chin in his hand. Tony’s face looked all too breakable in that strong grip. Judging from the hiss that escaped Tony’s lips it wasn’t a gentle caress.

“Well, you certainly haven’t lost that spark. Oh, it would be so satisfying to break you, tear you open just to see what makes you tick. Is there a heart in there or a soulless pit, I wonder.” Stone mused, tapping the arc reactor through the cloth of Tony’s shirt with deliberate intent. It was calculated. Stone _knew_ how much Tony hated people touching it.

“Did that come from a Disney villain’s handbook? Your lines need more work.” Tony retorted, probably a little quieter than he intended, stubbornly pushing on. Had his face been just a little more colourful and his voice just a tad firmer even Natasha would have been hard pressed to spot the bravado.

Tony was scared.

And not much scared Tony Stark. Or rather, not much so _obviously_ scared him.

Her stomach sank slightly; she turned to face the man standing silently behind her but otherwise didn’t do anything, not even when he uncapped a syringe. 

Perhaps Tiberius Stone was more dangerous than she had anticipated.

“Tisk, tisk. One day someone will cut out that sharp tongue of yours.” Stone chided as though scolding a disobedient puppy for chewing on a rug. The pat to Tony’s cheek just enforced the patronising message.

Brown eyes bristled with fury, more so than even that condescension warranted. 

“Now, enough chatter. You’ll both remain still while you get a little pinprick. Nothing harmful, just a sedation. And remember, Miss Romanov - before you make a move - that the explosives are on a timer, unless I type in the pass code they will explode in, ah, fifty-three seconds to be precise. Not enough time for you two to do anything.” Stone warned all so very pleasantly.

“Fuck you.” Not very eloquent but Natasha supposed Tony’s stillness was answer in itself.

Natasha felt the needle enter her skin and the rush of burning coolness that flooded her veins. She had to fight to keep still but she’d been in worse places, worse conditions.

“Now, now, what did I say about that tongue?” 

Too late Natasha realised that there was no syringe for Tony, that she was the only one being put under.

She wondered if she should feel insulted (she was merely an accessory, the true prize was Tony) or flattered that they considered her threat enough to knock her out.

(She settled for intensely irritated that the mark had got the drop on her.)

Some of her muscles relaxed involuntarily and she leaned further back in her seat. It didn’t take long before her eyes drifted shut accompanying the starting rumble of the car and she was lost to the world.

 

#

 

There was something tickling her cheek.

The feeling came again, no correction, there was something tapping her cheek.

She felt awareness sluggishly thread through her veins. 

As her brain and body caught up to reality she spread out her senses to work out where she was and how long she had been under. She played possum, it was always a good idea when waking somewhere unknown and Natasha lost track of the amount of times she had exploited someone’s inattention because they thought she was asleep.

There was muttering in time with the taps to her cheek.

A mission. Right. A mark. Tony, no not Tony. Tony was there. Right. Tiberius Stone. Drugged her, wanted to play with Tony. Okay.

She carefully kept her breaths even and her heartbeat slow.

Natasha strained to hear what was being muttered, any information was useful.

The voice was familiar...

Tony.

Ah. The floor, carpeted with cheap rough carpet that scratched. Hmmm. The stuff used in work places, in corridors not the sort of thing you would pay for in a flat or house.

She carefully cracked open her eyelids just a tad.

She couldn’t hear any other breathing except her own and Tony’s.

Well, nothing for it.

She opened her eyes fully. The fingers at her cheek tapped rhythmically, he hadn’t noticed she was awake then. Natasha smoothly sat up, looking round the room for any sign of exit, guard or camera.

Then she turned to make sure Tony was all right.

Tony beamed when he saw her; it was the brightest expression she had ever seen him use.

“Nat! You’re awake!” He exclaimed, sounding far too happy.

Natasha frowned; she certainly hadn’t given him permission to call her ‘Nat’.

“It’s good you woke up, I was beginning to wonder if they wanted you to sleep until Brucie comes in all green and smashy, because you’re not that heavy but still a pain to lug around without the suit. I’m not the one with super strength after all and we wouldn’t move that fast. Not much I could do in here, Ty seems a little paranoid to me, he’s taken out all the tech in this room.” Tony pouted.

Natasha leaned closer, getting right into his face.

He blinked at her before leaning back. A glimpse was all she needed however.

“Not that I don’t like you, you’re really hot as well but I’m in a committed relationship and quite frankly I’m rather attached to my balls, far too much to engage in-”

“Shut up.” Natasha ordered, not bothering to listen to his babble. “They drugged you.” She said. She didn’t particularly like pointing out the obvious but sometimes things needed to be said.

“Yup.” Tony nodded with a grin. “The good stuff too, I’d almost forgotten how nice it is.” 

Natasha’s stomach sank. Not good. You didn’t give an alcoholic a glass of brandy after being ten years sober. She knew all too well what a slippery slope looked like.

“Sta-Tony, Tony, look at me. Do you have any idea where we are? Do you have your phone on you?” Natasha asked.

“Nah. They took my gadgets.” Tony pouted again. He was markedly more coherent than she had expected. Natasha wondered if that was simply natural or down to the fact he had built up a tolerance.

In the silence that fell he started murmuring again, talking to himself under his breath, something about Tennessee and a potato gun. 

Right, well, it was down to her to get them out of this then. Not that it wouldn’t have been anyway considering all Tony’s tech was back at his Tower but not being drugged up would have been nice.

“Wow.” Tony’s voice broke her out of her plans for escape and she looked over to see him examining his own hands like they held the answers to the universe and more.

The wide eyed look of wonder actually made _Tony Stark_ look _innocent_.

“Can I?” He asked her, eyes still wide. She frowned (what was he asking?), he took that as tactic consent and gently reached out and picked up her hand, flipping it over so her palm was in eyesight.

He looked from her hand to his gently tracing the lines and marks there.

She let him, it was a harmless pastime and it was keeping him busy. His other hand was tapping his knee in a familiar rhythm, must be one of the songs he played at ear drum bursting level in his lab.

They were in a small room, plainly decorated. Bland walls an off white and rough brown carpet. No furniture to speak of although there were enough scuff marks on the cheap carpet to suggest there had once been a small desk and chair in the room.

It looked like a small office.

She got her feet, tugging her hand away from Tony and cursing herself for a fool.

She had assumed that seeing as they weren’t tied up that there were guards watching them. However, there were no cameras, no sounds of a guard shifting from foot to foot or even breathing...

She checked the door, locked.

Well, that was easily taken care of; she pulled a small pin from her hair.

And that was another odd thing, they both still had their clothes and the only thing Natasha could find missing was the knife she had holstered to her thigh.

(Hey, some clichés were cliché for a reason. They worked.)

The lock popped open with a quiet click. She listened intently for a minute but there was nothing. Not a sound except Tony’s muttering.

“Stay here.” She ordered quietly to Tony.

She shut the door behind her anyway, just to discourage him from wandering. 

It didn’t take her long to scope out the office block. Nothing. Nada.

Only a couple of battered desks, the odd chair and a black houseplant withered away in its pot.

Natasha frowned to herself but didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. She returned to the room where he seemed to be trying to program a pot plant into a communication device before ushering Tony out as quickly as possible and dragging them both outside.

They weren’t too far from a main road so Natasha soon flagged down a taxi; taxis came quickly for a pretty woman in a stunning dress, and shoved Tony into it before following.

She rattled off an address close to the Tower, it paid to be cautious, plus it disguised the fact that the taxi driver was ferrying _Tony Stark_ around.

About half way through the drive and Tony’s high began to fade. His hand tightened around her own though so she assumed he was alright.

He didn’t say anything.

And that was the most worrying thing she had encountered this evening.

(Was it evening still? She didn’t think she had been out too long but it wouldn’t be the first time her estimation was wrong.)

She paid with the money she had unrepentantly filched from Tony’s pocket during the drive.

(It was precisely the correct amount for the cab journey, down to the last cent, which made a bubble of anger rise up inside of her; they were being toyed with, taunted. She had no doubt it had been placed there deliberately, Tony didn’t carry round money.)

He didn’t make a quip.

In fact he seemed barely aware as they entered Stark Tower, dubbed Avengers Tower by Tony, and made their way up to the communal rooms.

“JARVIS, do you know where the other Avengers are?” Natasha would have assumed they had realised something was wrong by now but then again they hadn’t been gone more than a few hours so she could be wrong.

“Currently Mr Barton, Captain Rogers and Doctor Banner are in the Helcarrier. I believe they are trying to pinpoint yours and Sir’s position. Shall I alert them to your whereabouts, Miss Romanov?”

“Please. Thank you JARVIS.” Natasha answered, getting Tony into a chair in the communal lounge.

“You are very welcome, Miss Romanov.” 

There was silence for a moment while Natasha fetched two bottles of water from the fridge, opened one and handed it to Tony. He took it and drank one sip but otherwise didn’t react.

She drank from her own.

“It appears Sir is under the influence of C17H21NO4, more commonly known as cocaine.” JARVIS stated.

“I’m aware. Does it appear to have been an overdose? Is he in any danger?”

“Sir’s vitals are within normal parameters; his heart rate is a little high but nothing worrisome. There doesn’t appear to be any danger to his health at present.” JARVIS answered.

Natasha relaxed enough to let out a sigh of relief.

“Miss Romanov, there is an incoming call from the Helicarrier, would you care to answer?”

“Patch me through, please JARVIS.”

Living with JARVIS was spoiling her, making her lazy.

The massive TV blinked into wakefulness, showing one of the boardrooms on the Helicarrier filled with the rest of the team plus Phil, Fury and Maria.

There was a brief clamour before Fury snapped them all to order. Well, shouted at them to ‘shut the fuck up’ but it achieved the same effect.

“Agent Romanov: Report.” 

And that was just one of the reasons Natasha worked for Fury.

“My mark for the evening, one Tiberius Stone, threatened civilians to get us to cooperate and get in his car. He sedated me. When I awoke we were unbound in a small study, I’ll send the address, the door was locked but as far as I could tell there wasn’t any security. No one. We left and got a taxi to the tower.” Natasha answered succinctly. 

“Stark, do your events match up?” Fury asked.

“Pretty much. I wasn’t sedated, Ty wanted to chat about old times for a bit.” There was a pause. “Are the civilians unharmed?” Tony asked.

Steve winced.

Tony’s face closed. That was answer enough.

“No deaths. Sixteen casualties, one looking to be fatal but the others should survive.” Fury informed them bluntly. “There were charges in the room set to go off; they detonated at 10:11 this evening.” 

He let that sink in then stared at Tony.

“So, that begs the question. Why did he go to all that trouble then just let you waltz out free? What exactly did you ‘chat’ about Stark?” Fury growled out.

It was hardly questions Natasha herself hadn’t been considering but she did resent the implication that Tony had any hand in the nights events.

“What can I say?” Tony shrugged. “I’m just that irresistible, it seems.” 

“Don’t play games.” Fury bit out.

“Look I don’t know. I have no idea why Ty decides to abduct me every now and then, aside from mentally fucking with me!” Tony snapped, sounding pissed off.

An unusual state of being for Tony. When Tony was mad he got silent, cold. And although he did get irritated at times he always hid it behind quips. Snapping out of anger wasn’t really Tony’s thing except in extreme circumstances.

He rarely raised his voice.

“What do you mean ‘abduct you every now and then’?” Steve asked looking concerned.

Tony shrugged irritably.

“It’s a thing. He’s done it since MIT. Every few years he’ll make it clear I’m coming with him out of duress, talk to me a bit then let me wake up in a gutter somewhere mostly unharmed.”

Steve’s face pinched. Bruce frowned.

“And what does he say?” Fury asked exasperated.

“Nothing of any importance.”

“Considering civilians bore the brunt of that man’s whims I consider it of importance. Spill.”

Tony glared.

This was entirely the wrong way to get Tony to answer questions. Tony pushed back when under pressure.

“He reminisces. Sometimes he talks about the company. He got a real kick out of Afghanistan.”

Fury grimaced.

“You mean a crazy ex of yours likes to kidnap you for kicks and just talks to you?” Clint asked incredulously.

Tony’s hands tightened around the bottle of water.

“That sums it up. He’s crazy. And an asshole. Plus I know for a fact he doesn’t care about collateral damage.”

His fingers absently tapped away at his arc reactor as sure sign of anxiousness. Well, he could also be contemplating, however Natasha didn’t think so. 

“Are we done? I think we’re done.” Tony got to his feet, put the near full bottle of water on the coffee table and walked out ostensibly to his lab.

“Anything else to report, Romanov?” Fury asked once he was done pinching the bridge of his nose and scowling like the overdramatic bastard he could be at times.

She shook her head. 

“Nothing of import.” She made no mention of the fact Tony had been drugged. He had quite obviously not stated it in his report and she knew him well enough that she could spot the evasion.

“Are you two alright?” Steve asked sounding quite honestly concerned. And wasn’t that concern breathtaking in its sincerity? Well, Natasha knew she wasn’t the only one in the team stripped to the bone at times by Steve’s sheer capacity for care.

Not that the others didn’t all care in their own ways but...

She nodded absently, eyeing the door through which Tony had left.

“Not a scratch.”

“You and Stark will come to medical for a full screening, just to make sure it was only a sedative he slipped you Romanov and to make sure he didn’t bug you.” Fury ordered, it was certainly _not_ a request.

“Yep. Not happening.” Tony interjected, slipping back into the room clutching a tumbler of amber liquid tightly. Natasha looked him over; he’d downed two or three fingers in his brief absence from the room. He was rattled. 

“Stark-”

“Look, I’ll get JARVIS to scan me. I’ll even get a blood sample for him to look over but I’m not going to SHIELD medical, the doctors always try to force me to do stuff.” This last was said petulantly but Natasha could spot the slight signs of strain it was taking for Tony to act so near to normal.

Fury sighed.

“Fine. If something does slip through though doctors will be the least of your concerns.” Fury threatened sounding more weary than angry.

“You want JARVIS to sort you out too?” Tony offered. Natasha shrugged glancing at Fury.

“Sure.”

“You hear that J, buddy?” 

“Of course, Sir. May I suggest using the lab you specifically converted into a makeshift medical room? My scanners will not be impeded by anything there.” JARVIS responded.

Tony made a face but nodded, downing most of his drink in one swallow.

“You’re supposed to sip good whiskey.” Clint chipped in, a mocking curl to his voice. He gave a theatrical snooty sniff for good measure.

“Well thank fuck this isn’t _good_ whiskey.” Tony responded with a little more equilibrium. He clapped his hands together after setting the now empty glass down.

“Ready?” He asked her ignoring their audience. 

She followed him out the room.

“We’ll head back.” Bruce murmured as the screen returned to blank.

Natasha rolled her neck and kept pace as they entered the sterile medical labs.

“Some friend you have there.” She said neutrally. Tony glances at her, dark eyes searching her face for something.

“Yeah.” He agrees, standing still for the full body scan.

 

#

 

Steve learnt about it from Natasha.

He knew she had told him on purpose, she didn’t just ‘let slip’ things, ever. Too unprofessional for a spy of her calibre. 

He wasn’t too surprised Tony and Pepper had broken up, or that Natasha was the one who told him rather than Tony himself. What he was surprised about was the fact that Tony’s lab was empty.

He wasn’t in there on an inventing binge along with several bottles of high class bourbon.

Nor was he with Bruce in his set of labs. The two weren’t concocting insane experiments with a feverish glint to their eyes and the crazy hair of two mad scientists. (Something which happened alarmingly frequently and Steve couldn’t pin the entire blame on Tony, Bruce was just as bad when it came to ‘SCIENCE’. Yes, capitols necessary.)

Again it was Natasha who informed him where their resident billionaire currently was. (After no doubt laughing inside as she watched him search for Tony just to make sure the man hadn’t choked on his own vomit.)

And the answer brought him up short.

“Um, what?” He asked intelligently. Natasha slowly raised one eyebrow, a move that was just as dismissive as it was sultry.

“He’s in a board meeting.” Natasha repeated, taking a delicate sip of her martini. 

Steve absently wondered if he needed to have a talk with her about drinking - the one with Tony hadn’t gone down very well (understatement) - considering the half tucked away bottle of vodka he could see in her purse that was near empty and the fact it wasn’t yet eleven in the morning.

He didn’t object to his teammates drinking, they were all adults after all and Steve had been a soldier in World War II, he’d known people who drank enough to make even Tony’s eyebrows raise. It was the excess he objected to, what if there was a call and half of the team was blind drunk and in no fit state to come and fight. 

“Could you repeat that?”

Natasha looked over him coolly, running her eyes up and down before quirking her lips just slightly in something that was definitely _not_ a smile.

He felt like he was about to be eaten. And not in the crude way Tony and Clint meant when they said that.

She elegantly fished out an olive from her glass and popped it into her mouth before spitting the stone out with perfect aim, getting it into the vase at the opposite side of the room.

Steve blinked. That...that was an art form. And probably rather rude. 

She drained her glass and got to her feet in one movement without so much as a stumble.

Steve knew not to use her current stability as a measurement of how much she had drunk; he’d seen her down six men with her stockings and one high heeled shoe after drinking an entire bottle of the strongest vodka Steve had ever encountered.

And _he_ had worked with the Howling Commandos who were excellent at fighting half drunk. 

Tony had brought popcorn to that display. Steve didn’t want to know where the popcorn had come from, they had just finished a fight against Doom, Tony was in his suit of armour and the popcorn had just _appeared_.

No matter Tony’s distaste at the idea, Steve was chalking it down to magic. Okay, maybe _because_ of Tony’s distaste at the idea.

It didn’t help that when Natasha had finished making the rest of them feel obsolete, she and Tony had hunkered down amongst the rubble and shared a hipflask (and seriously, _where_?) of whiskey while finishing off the popcorn.

They had sat on top of the men Natasha had downed. (Tony out of the suit.) Steve wasn’t sure if he should be horrified or grudgingly amused at the lack of professionalism. He’d expected better. From Natasha certainly.

(But it wasn’t Tony who had repurposed one of the downed men’s shoes as a drinks holder.)

So, Steve knew better than to try and gauge Natasha’s intoxication level. He just had to trust that she was able to fight and leave it at that.

“Grab a jacket.” Natasha ordered and he complied immediately before wondering what was going on.

She drained the bottle of vodka and then placed the empty bottle upside down in the vase she had used as a spittoon. 

Well, that had to be the oddest bunch of flowers he’d ever encountered. However, considering the people who lived in the Tower it was oddly fitting. Huh.

“Where are we going?” He asked, following her, realising that she was wearing a fitted business suit and heels with a wicked looking point.

She gave him a look. He shut up and just meekly followed her, her heels clacking against the floor as she expertly applied lipstick without slowing down.

They walked on in silence, moving through Stark Industries without so much as a blink from security. Steve found that a bit disconcerting until he noticed the badge pinned to his shirt near identical to the one Natasha also sported. He came to a halt and blinked at the badge at his chest.

How had-

He looked to Natasha, who had instantly noticed when he stopped moving, standing there, waiting impatiently for him to continue moving.

When had she-

She raised an eyebrow at him. 

He opened his mouth. The eyebrow moved a fraction higher on that smooth forehead. He shut his mouth. She turned and continued, he followed without comment.

He wondered how Natasha could turn the innocent click of her heels against the hard floor into something vaguely sinister.

Again, it was an art form.

How had asking Natasha where Tony was, turned into this?

Natasha approached a pleasant looking woman seated behind a desk, a headphone in her right ear that curved along until it stopped just by her lightly painted mouth. She was tapping away at a laptop that looked futuristic even for, well, the future while simultaneously speaking into the headset.

“...quite alright, however, the specs for that particular design rest with Mr Stark and I am not authorised to let you see the unfinished designs.”

Natasha paused by the desk, waiting with all of the patience she hadn’t displayed earlier. Steve leaned against the wall.

The lady at the desk stopped tapping at the laptop-thing (looking at the two panels of what appeared to be glass Steve couldn’t really call it a laptop) and gave them an apologetic smile without even halting her conversation.

“And I quite understand but again, it isn’t up to me. You’ll have to take it up with Miss Potts.”

Another bland smile.

“Well, Miss Potts has taken leave, using some of the holiday days she always ignored before, so she won’t be available until 20th of July-”

A bland frown this time.

“Yes, I am well aware that is a week from now-”

No frown or smile. She began tapping at the screen again, this time sharply, jerkily.

“Mr Stark is currently busy, I can schedule you in a call if you want however-No. I am sorry, that isn’t possible. I know you’re a busy person too but-A meeting?” She sounded appalled. “I’m afraid Mr Stark’s calendar is jam packed-”

Her lips thinned and the tapping stopped.

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message-”

This time she was interrupted by someone outside of the phone call. Tony neatly leaned over the desk and clipped something to the lady’s headphone and then pressed something against the headset he wore himself.

Steve blinked. How had he not noticed Tony’s approach? Sure Tony could be quiet on his feet, almost catlike, but not enough for Steve’s enhanced hearing not to pick up.

“Ah, Mr Falco, no need for an appointment, is there something the matter with the specs you were sent?” Tony asked, smiling. On second glance it wasn’t a smile.

It was strange how both Natasha and Tony could turn something as innocuous as a smile into something more bloodthirsty than a shark.

Tony laughed. It wasn’t the pleasant relaxed sound Steve heard when Clint and Tony were goofing off. It was sharp, a snarling beast hidden behind smiling civility.

“Ah, bene, ma-”

And Tony was off in a babble of Italian that Steve didn’t have a hope of understanding.

From the slight curve to Natasha’s lips he was the only one. Steve glanced at the lady at the desk who was back to tapping unconcernedly at her screen. She didn’t bother looking in their direction, not even looking surprised that her call had been hijacked. 

A slight movement caught his attention and Steve blinked when he saw Agent Coulson, dressed in a suit better fitted and finer than the ones he had worn around SHIELD, approach carrying four takeaway drinks from the local coffee shop.

Phil didn’t even blink when he saw the three of them standing there. Natasha’s lips quirked slightly as she stole one of the cups from Phil. Agent Coulson let her without protest.

There was an exchange in the tilt of Natasha’s head and the small nod Phil gave that spoke more than a book ever could but Steve couldn’t derive the subtle nuances, he had no clue what that small exchange meant. Or even the topic of it.

It could have been ‘no unidentified targets in the surrounding ten metres’ just as easily as it could have been ‘hello, good morning? Mine’s been alright, I guess’.

Tony’s voice rose slightly but he was still talking in Italian and his hand gestures grew more frenzied as he began to pace. Phil sighed and offered Steve one of the drinks. Steve accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Steve opened the plastic lid and sniffed, stifling a pleased smile. Hot chocolate. Far nicer than coffee (seeing as the stimulant didn’t work on him and he’d never got used to the flavour) and he didn’t particularly like tea all that much. He had a weakness for hot chocolate, for the sweet decadence.

Natasha seemed to be enjoying a dark tea looking thing, it looked like the Turkish blend of tea she enjoyed when not sipping at vodka.

Although she usually drank it in a glass shaped like a tulip and used two stacked kettle like things to make it.

Steve paused for a second. How had Agent Coulson known they were coming?

He’d obviously ordered to their tastes...He glanced from Natasha to Phil and decided it would be better if he didn’t ask.

Really.

They _knew_ things. Even without SHIELD there to provide the network of information.

Phil stepped closer to where Tony was pacing, gesticulating and talking at 100 miles an hour, and carefully placed one of the cups into Tony’s hand.

Tony gripped it reflexively not pausing in his conversation, although he stopped waving his hands about so much, making sure the coffee didn’t spill. He used his thumb to pop off the lid before taking a sip.

“I thought he didn’t like to be handed things.” Steve murmured to himself absently.

“He doesn’t.” Phil said quietly. Steve blinked as the man stood beside him then leaned back casually and seemed to just...blend in. Just another man in a suit. Unremarkable, easily forgettable. 

Steve wondered if that was an ability SHIELD had looked for in its agents because Phil was almost scarily good at going unnoticed. 

“He’s distracted enough not to notice me handing him a coffee at the moment, generally when he speaks in Italian he unintentionally lets down his guard, just a bit. It was the only language he and his mother conversed in.” Phil murmured.

“It isn’t a trust thing?” Steve asked slowly, not quite sure if wanted to discuss this right now. Or if he wanted to discuss this at all. Everyone was allowed their own quirks and not liking being handed things didn’t impact Tony in the field from what Steve had seen.

Phil paused; a silence from Phil often meant more than an entire speech if only Steve could decipher it.

“Not entirely, although trust plays a large part of it.” Agent Coulson answered eventually, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Stark doesn’t trust me.” He said wryly.

“Rough morning?” Natasha asked, creeping up beside them. Silently. With those aforementioned clicking heels. That decided not to click now.

Phil hummed absently. “The most relaxing one I’ve had in about a decade, actually.” Phil answered almost sheepishly.

“Beats SHIELD work?”

“Well, under the circumstances, yes. However, if Tony was at his usual work ethic then SHIELD would have been the lesser of two evils.” Phil answered with something that approached wistfulness. 

Maria Hill and Phil Coulson weren’t the only SHIELD agents to come and work for Stark Industries after the collapse of SHIELD but they were both perhaps the highest ranking.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, confused. He didn’t know why Tony was here, it was his company but he gave it to Pepper to run and instead worked as head of R&D, so it was actually unusual to find Tony in his own company building.

(Well, the bit his workers had access to.)

Not to mention considering the break up between Tony and Pepper Steve would have expected Tony to be avoiding her...and people in general.

Phil and Natasha blinked at him, not unlike the way Tony did when he admitted he didn’t know what the genius was talking about.

“Pepper decided to take a break, for a bit, until they both get used to it. She didn’t want Tony to go on a booze bender and lock himself in his lab so she made him head of the company while she goes on a weeks vacation. She gave him a distraction. Tony paid for her to go to a very exclusive spa resort. He gave her relaxation, she gave him distraction. Phil is acting as Tony’s PA.” Natasha explained.

“It beats HR.” Phil smiled thinly.

Steve couldn’t pretend to understand Tony and Pepper’s relationship and he didn’t try to, but this seemed to be another aspect of it and he was reminded that they were friends before they began dating.

It was an odd way of taking care of each other but it seemed to work for them so Steve wasn’t going to knock it.

“What did you mean ‘Tony’s usual work ethic’?” Steve queried.

Natasha and Phil shared an amused/exasperated look.

“Let me put it this way, Tony is an excellent CEO when he bothers to attend meetings on time, take phone calls and not blow off important business things for the next wild party.”

Steve frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very responsible.”

Natasha snorted, actually _snorted_ , in amusement.

“Tony Stark isn’t responsible, except for when he is. He has no respect for authority he can run rings around, which is nearly every authority he’s ever encountered. So if he sees no point to a meeting he simply won’t attend it, his brain being ten steps ahead of everyone while simultaneously being two steps behind.” Phil stated.

“But that doesn’t sound-”

“Look, I’m not condoning it, nothing would get done if everyone worked like Tony Stark but if he sees a meeting as obsolete he won’t waste time on it. Simple as that.”

Steve frowned again. 

“Even if he chooses to waste it on drunken revelry.” Natasha muttered.

Steve sighed, there was no point getting worked up about something that wasn’t about to change. And from the looks of things, Tony had done a good thing for his company in making Pepper CEO.

It was something Howard would never have done, far too possessive of his toys.

“You should be pleased.” Natasha said out of the blue.

“What?” Steve asked, confused at the change of direction the conversation had taken.

“Tony dislikes authority yet I didn’t hear him complain when you were put in charge of the Avengers and he listens to you.”

Steve gave her an incredulous look.

“Well, he listens to you more than he does anyone else in position of power over him.” Natasha amended with a shrug.

“That’s because Cap’s painfully earnest, seriously, his face, it’s like I’ve stolen some kids ice-cream then proceeded to smash it in the kids face without even getting the pleasure of eating it.” Tony interjected; stealing Steve’s hot chocolate and taking a sip before pulling a face and handing it back.

“Urgh. Hot chocolate. Philistine.” Tony frowned at Steve as though his drinking choice had personally offended him.

Steve tried not to startle at being caught out at talking about a colleague behind their back. 

“I don’t like coffee.” Steve said serenely. Tony pulled a betrayed face.

“That hurt, Cap, struck me right in my black, coffee drenched soul.”

“Stark, meeting, boardroom ten.” Phil interjected, moving his barely touched coffee in front of his chest. He didn’t startle when Tony promptly stole the cup, inhaling the steam like it was his saviour.

Something about Phil’s placidity at the stolen coffee made Steve sure that Phil had done it on purpose. That he had been waiting for Tony to steal it instead of offering. Because Tony didn’t like to be handed things but had no trouble taking things off of people when it wasn’t offered.

(There was probably some horrific reason for that which would make Steve want to punch things. He preferred to leave that sort of thinking to the head shrinks.)

It was a little bit scary how efficiently competent Phil could be. And no one would ever notice if they didn’t _look_.

Somehow Tony’s theory that Agent Coulson was secretly running the world wasn’t so implausible. 

“I still have my taser.” Phil threatened blandly.

“And I have your coffee, Agent.” Tony grinned, not fazed in the least.

“I take it Natalie will be taking over your duties?” Tony asked after brazenly enjoying his coffee. Steve thought it debatable which Tony preferred, the coffee or stealing it.

Steve blinked, lost again.

“Got it in one, Stark.” Phil answered handing over a small tablet over to Natasha and taking the, now empty, coffee cup from Tony and walking away.

“So, why’s Cap here too?” Tony asked, wandering over to the desk and stealing the lady’s notepad and pen and scribbling something on it.

“Learning experience.” Natasha answered so flatly she had to be amused.

“Learning what?” Tony asked baffled. “How to be a stuffy idiot with more money that brains? And no, I saw that look, I don’t mean by watching me, while I have more money than can actually be counted my brain far surpasses it. I meant the ass-clowns that like to dig their own grave and then fill it too. The board.” 

“Learning how to be a P.A.” Natasha said with a smile. Steve double checked to see if it actually was a smile and not a shark impression. Huh. A smile. But a bland one.

Tony gave him a once over.

“Well, he’s certainly pretty enough, not sure he’s got enough patience though.”

_Excuse you_.

Natasha and Tony shared a look, an in joke then.

But it was rich for Tony to be mentioning anyone else’s lack of patience. And Steve was plenty patient. Most of the time. Occasionally.

“Well, let’s get going then, don’t want to be late.” Tony’s grin was practically devilish as he swept past them.

He stopped just outside a meeting room, asked one of the workers to get him some more coffee (and that really couldn’t be healthy but coffee was better than alcohol at any rate) then turned to face them casually undoing the top two buttons of his shirt.

There was no tie. Tony didn’t wear ties except for formal events. Steve glanced down to see Tony was wearing trainers, incongruous with his sharp suit but utterly Tony.

Especially considering the red and gold highlights on the white trainers.

“So, why was Agent on Stark sitting duty?” Tony asked, tapping away at his phone briefly before passing it to Natasha who took it without a word. Steve blinked, usually an action like that would gain at least Natasha flinging the item back.

“Your last PA took a leave of absence until Pepper returns. I can’t imagine why.” Natasha answered in a flat monotone, a sly smirk twisting up the corners of her lips. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Natalie.” He responded, taking off his jacket and slinging it over her shoulder.

A harried looking Stark Industries worker returned holding aloft a cup of coffee that Tony claimed with a hurried murmur of thanks.

“Right, time to rock and roll.” Tony muttered to himself putting the now empty cup on the floor before turning and entering the boardroom with his customary aplomb.

“We should follow; you don’t want to miss this.” Natasha said, just a slight upwards quirk to her lips.

Steve nodded, ducking to pick up the abandoned cup and after looking around for somewhere to put it simply held it in his hands as they entered the room and stood discretely at the back.

Natasha was right; he didn’t want to miss this.

Tony was ostensibly in his element. Sharp fire quips and questions mixed with all the information and his answers were clear cut and pointed. A viable flame of charisma dancing around the room, pacing, mouth going a mile a minute, eyes never missing anything...It was dynamic.

Tony was dynamic.

A controlled explosion.

A vibrant force of nature, ploughing through any dissent like it was nothing.

It was everything Steve knew Tony could be but hadn’t actively seen before. 

When in battle they were all fighting, all distracted by their own opponent, working as a team and Tony always had his face plate down.

This was Tony, standing on his own – not needing any support. This was what it was like when Tony overcame problems, when he did Iron Man stuff, separate from the Avengers. A one man mission.

This was Tony, all that sparkling intellect, burning drive and intensity focussed on one point.

And Steve doubted he was putting in one tenth of the effort he expended for mass scale life and death problems.

All this intensity was heady and if this was what one tenth of a full capacity Tony was like then...well, Steve would have feared for the world had he not trusted Tony. Well, trusted him enough to know that the other man knew taking over the world would involve a lot more paperwork.

It was a startling revelation, that Tony could so easily take the world by storm with just a crook of his finger. _Had_ in fact.

Tony had turned a weapons manufacture company into one for electronics and clean energy virtually overnight, only taking two months of stocks dropping before they rose again, something no one but Tony Stark could have successfully executed.

Iron Man, did Steve have to say anymore?

The Avengers, Steve knew the person responsible for keeping them together, to showing them how to make the bonds they all had with each other now...and it wasn’t him, the team leader, but Tony.

“He’s a futuristic visionary.” Natasha murmured in his ear as though she could hear his thoughts.

Steve nodded absently.

Something Natasha had said earlier crashed about in his head with the same eye catching brashness Tony Stark practically coined. 

Why hadn’t Tony complained about Steve being made leader when Tony was clearly much better for the job?

After all, Tony was actually from this time, definitely charismatic enough and from the looks of it would have been the obvious choice. The obvious choice.

So why had Fury tasked Steve with it?

Steve was still ruminating when the meeting packed up.

“Right, I’m hungry, are you guys hungry? We should go to the Japanese restaurant not too far from here, it does amazing Sake.” Tony rambled, taking his jacket from Natasha, which Steve absently noted wasn’t offered, and slinging it on already walking out.

Steve placed the empty cup he was holding on the table and followed.

“You have a meeting with the investors for the patent of that new design for the kids remote control car in ten minutes in-”

“Well, tell them to move restaurants. I want Sake. They won’t mind having a meal somewhere else; it was a lunch meeting, wasn’t it? Anyway I don’t want steak. Plus it’s only the kiddie toy design from the scraps of the R&D department, nothing important.”

Natasha scowled but started tapping away at her mobile.

Steve grimace, pushing down the slight amusement. Okay, so maybe Tony wasn’t going to take the world over by storm right this minute.

Food first.

And whatever ‘Sar-kay’ was.

**Author's Note:**

> Tony could totally take over the world. Pepper would kill him, though.


End file.
